Red Heir - Lisa Henry Page 0,23

rallied enough to enjoy the food that Benji cooked on the outside grill.

“So you’re the monster,” Loth mused as he chewed on a piece of fried turnip which was a lot better than it sounded. Benji knew his way around spices.

“There was a monster, I think,” Benji said. He flicked a shank of black hair over his shoulder. “But he was either dead or retired by the time I moved here. He had claws the length of ploughshares, apparently. Anyway, I like it here. The human soldiers are too scared to come here, and so are the other elves, mostly. I’m ‘too radical’ for them.” Air quotes.

“You burned down a school classroom,” Calarian said.

“That was one time.”

“It was three times!”

“It was one classroom!” Benji countered. “If they didn’t want me to keep burning it down, they should have stopped rebuilding it.”

“The collective kicked him out after that,” Calarian told the others.

Benji smiled proudly.

Loth hummed consideringly. “If you’re the vicious swamp killer, why were you so nice to Grub, getting his water and charcoal? Those don’t seem like very homicidal actions.”

Benji rolled his eyes “Well he’s obviously oppressed right? I’m not gonna kill the oppressed, am I?”

“I don’t buy it,” Loth declared. “You don’t seem like a killer.” Benji looked distinctly shifty, so Loth prodded a bit more. “What really happens to your victims?”

“I mean I never claimed I was a killer. I just let the rumours do the talking. Mainly, if anyone’s stupid enough to come this way, I seduce my victims and then take all their money while they’re rolling in the afterglow.” Benji smirked and winked. “I have an afterglow that leaves them dazzled for days.”

Loth didn’t doubt it.

Calarian nodded. “You always did have a reputation as a ladies' man.”

“And a man’s man,” Benji said. “An anyone’s man, really.” At Loth’s raised eyebrows, he shrugged. “It’s a great way to pass the time.”

“But not Scott?” Calarian asked.

“Have you seen him?” Benji shuddered. “Even I have limits. Anyway, the point is, there was a deadly swamp monster here once, but it left, or died, or retired, or something. The only monster here now is the one in my pants.”

Grub’s jaw dropped as the elves high-fived.

Moments later, Scott bustled through the door. He stank of swamp water. His clothes were soaked, and his hair was dripping. “Dave threw me in the swamp!”

Dave lumbered in after him. “You smelled like shit.”

“My Prince!” Scott exclaimed, his gaze falling on Loth. “You’re alive!”

“No thanks to you, I hear,” Loth said, and Grub snorted beside him.

Scott affected a look of wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t know what you mean, your Highnessness?”

“The little matter of offering to sell me out to your captor? Ring any bells?” Loth arched an intimidating eyebrow.

Scott paled. “What? Oh—no, I was—that was—a misunderstanding, my liege! I was warning the monster to leave you alone, that’s all. Alerting him to your presence so you could pass through the swamp safely. Yes, safely,” he repeated, his gaze darting around the room.

“Really?” Benji asked, scowling. “You're going with that, Mr I'll give you the prince if you let me go?”

Scott licked his lips nervously and sidled closer to Dave. “Um…”

Loth decided abruptly that Scott wasn’t worth his time right now. He was more concerned about how they were going to get out of the swamp. “Tell me Benji, I don’t suppose you have a map out of here?”

Benji frowned. “You don’t have a map? What kind of idiot doesn’t have a map on their quest?”

“We had one, but Scott set it on fire.”

All eyes turned to Scott, who was still standing there dripping. “It was the dragon,” he whined. “Anyway, you should respect me as your leader and stop blaming me when things go wrong!”

“That’s how leadership works, Scott. If you want the glory of success, you have to take the blame for the failures,” Loth pointed out.

Scott’s eyes widened as if that had never occurred to him. “You mean, if this all goes wrong, the ballads will…”

“Mock you, yes. You'll be famous as Scott the Swamp Shitter, probably.”

“Ooh, I like that!” Dave perked up. “I’m gonna start working on a song! What rhymes with shit?”

“Git, tit, full of it,” Grub listed, grinning. Loth was relieved to see that he was well enough to take part in the conversation, so he encouraged it.

“Brainless twit, biscuit, misfit…” he recited happily, taking great pleasure in Scott’s scowl.

“Yeah,” Dave nodded. “Th’ ballad of Scott and his... his squat!”

Dave looked inordinately pleased with himself, and Loth couldn’t blame